Why Throw A Circle
by The Laughing Duchess
Summary: Drabbles based on spoilers and speculation for Oliver and Felicity in Season 3.
1. One

**AUTHORS NOTES:** Small gap filler for 2x23. Been doing some drabbles as a side project while I work my way through some writer's block on At First Just A Little. I shared them on tumblr and thought I'd do the same here as a thank you for the kind words of encouragement I've received. Hope you enjoy. Arrow belongs to DC Comics. Title blatantly stolen from the song "I See You, You See Me" by The Magic Numbers.

* * *

_I often thought that you'd be better off left alone  
Why throw a circle round a man with broken bones?  
But darling when I see you, I see me_

~"I See You, You See Me" by The Magic Numbers

* * *

The first time is accidental.

Well, as accidental as purposefully crawling into a bed together can be. It's just that they go back to the foundry so Oliver can change, thinking they're going to get on a plane with Slade at any moment. It turns out not to be the case.

The cell ARGUS has for him isn't quite ready and the jet needs fueling and Amanda Waller apparently has to interview Slade herself before she'll let them lock him away. Digg eventually goes back to meet Lyla to find out how long it's all going to take, leaving Felicity and Oliver to stare nervously at each other after he's gone.

She tears her eyes away from him, letting them flit around the room. The place is a wreck, and probably a death trap in some areas, but she's too tired to start working on it now. "I'm exhausted," she says, undoing her coat for what feels like the first time in weeks. She drops it onto a nearby pile of rubble and slowly walks back to where Oliver's bed is. It's miraculously clear of debris. "Mind if I take a nap?" she asks, looking back at him as she crosses to the far side.

He shrugs, walking towards her. "That's fine."

She kicks off her shoes and crawls under the covers, trying not to think about how long it's probably been since the sheets were changed, and closes her eyes as Oliver makes his way over. The other side of the bed dips down as he sits.

"I'm sorry."

She nods into a pillow that still smells like Sara and knows that she's not even close to being emotionally prepared to deal with this. They can talk about it later, when she's had a shower and some coffee and can no longer feel the phantom press of steel against her neck. "It all worked out in the end, Oliver."

"I should have told-"

She opens her eyes and stares up at him, his words dying off based on whatever he sees there. He's perched on the edge and he looks exactly as tired as she feels, maybe even more so. It's not surprising. He's lost so much in the past few days, how he's able to form complete sentences just then is beyond her. His mother is dead, his sister off on her own, and Sara was out there somewhere preparing to head back to her life as not only an assassin, but also Nyssa's girlfriend. Maybe.

It's fucked up. Every single inch of the situation is fucked up. And now they have to go back to Lian Yu. The idea of it seems unbearable.

The last thing she wants him to do is apologize for successfully executing a plan. She reaches out and tugs on his arm. "You should sleep too, Oliver. Come lay down."

He doesn't fight her. Just nods and slides back onto the bed over the covers. She curls up onto her side, facing his body, watching his chest rise and fall as he stares at the ceiling. She should have told him to change out of the leather.

He turns his head towards her, watching her for a moment before his body suddenly follows the movement. Their knees brush against each other as he curls up and she smiles at him.

"I'm glad you're alive," he says, his voice low.

"I'm glad you're alive, too." Her eyes well up a little as she thinks about how either of them might not have been. The whole thing could much more easily have gone wrong. They had been lucky.

Oliver raises a hand and traces his fingers along her hairline until his thumb brushes over the cut on her forehead. It hurts, which surprises her. It feels like the crash was a long time ago, like the wound should already have started to heal, but it had only been a matter of hours. How had so much happened in such a short time?

His hand cups her face and the bed dips again as he shifts towards her, pressing his lips to the injury. Her whole body stiffens until he pulls back and catches her eyes. "I'm so glad," he whispers, their faces close and his voice catching slightly.

She thinks of his whispered "I love you." They're both feeling vulnerable, but none of this really means anything and one of them needs to remember that. When his eyes dart to her mouth she knows it's going to have to be her.

"Go to sleep, Oliver," she says softly, easing his hand away from her face. She twines their fingers together and then twists their bent arms slightly, tucking them up against her body.

"Felicity, I-"

She brushes her cheek against his knuckles before settling their hands under her chin. "No more talking. Just sleep."

Oliver draws in a quick breath as if he's going to protest, but then he nods and squeezes her fingers. Her eyes flutter shut, a wave of exhaustion and relief overtaking her. Now is not their time.

Oliver slides closer, resting his forehead against hers and after a few minutes his breathing evens out as he falls into sleep.

She remembers the small smile he gave her after his words at the mansion and lets her heart swell a little. It's a sweet thought, a sweet feeling, but it's something she'll have to let go of. For now though, she holds it close.

Tomorrow she'll make sure to forget.


	2. Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** The flights home. Post 2x23. I've never written from Oliver's POV before. Holy lord is he tough. I am in awe of those of you who do this regularly. Arrow belongs to DC Comics. The title is blatantly stolen from the song "I See You, You See Me" by The Magic Numbers.

* * *

_I often thought that you'd be better off left alone_  
_Why throw a circle round a man with broken bones?_  
_But darling when I see you, I see me_

_~"I See You, You See Me" by The Magic Numbers_

* * *

It takes two hours to fly from Lian Yu to Hong Kong, but it feels like an eternity. Mostly because he can't see her.

He supposes he could chalk the slow crawl of the clock up to exhaustion. He's crashing down from the near constant flow of adrenaline that's been coursing through his body since he walked into his house and saw Slade Wilson with his mother all those weeks ago, but that doesn't explain the pit in his stomach.

His hands tighten around the controls as he checks his watch. There's a little over an hour left.

His body is aching and his injured knee throbs from the humidity on the island, but pain is so much a part of his life now that he almost wouldn't know how to function without it. Still, he wouldn't mind a little distraction. Felicity is usually good for that sort of thing.

She's sitting behind him, but she's gone quiet. He misses the way she was hurling questions at him before, the way she was rambling on about whether his being trained in Hong Kong actually made him some sort of ninja. If he could hear her again things would be better, he would be calmer, but even her breathing is being drowned out by the sound of the engines. It's the longest she's been out of his sight since he left her at the house and it should bother him more that it's bothering him so much, but it doesn't.

Digg sighs in the seat next to him and Oliver can't ignore the way his friend's fingers are tapping impatiently against his leg.

"My flying upsetting you, Digg?" he asks into his headset.

Digg keeps staring straight ahead, but his hand stills and the corners of his mouth start to curl up. His voice is tinny in Oliver's ear. "Seems like you're doing fine. My mind is just elsewhere."

Oliver knows the feeling. His mind is elsewhere as well. It's just that his elsewhere is a lot closer, about three feet behind him the last time he checked.

That's if she's still in her seat, which she must be. It's a small plane, it's not like there's anywhere for her to go, but the lack of noise or activity coming from her direction is unnerving.

The silence in the cabin is ringing in his ears and he feels no shame in admitting that he'd rather be hearing the sound of her voice. The topic doesn't even matter at this point. Last week she'd been talking about shoes and he'd put a hand on her shoulder before changing the subject back to something more relevant, but now he thinks he'd be happy to hear her debate the merits of boots that zipped up versus boots that pulled on.

Maybe she's sleeping. He finally gives in and turns in his seat to look back, covering up his intent by cracking his back as he glances in her direction. His body makes a satisfying popping noise, helping him sell the lie and buying enough time for his eyes to really run over her. She's curled up in her seat, head resting against the window and eyes closed. He turns back to the windshield, feeling a little bit better. Digg smirks lightly at him from the co-pilot seat.

He tries to focus on the task at hand. It's a beautiful day. A brilliant sky full of white, fluffy clouds stretches out in front of them and the sea looks like a sheet of silk down below. Everything is calm and he should be too. They're safe now. Slade's been locked up and Felicity is fine.

She'd taken a pretty strong blow to the head when the van flipped, though. Maybe she shouldn't be sleeping. Had they even checked her for signs of concussion?

The minutes tick by and he almost tells Digg twice to take over, wanting nothing more than to slip into the back and reassure himself that she's alive, that she's breathing. His concern seems a little out of place. She hasn't shown any symptoms of being concussed and Slade's sword didn't leave so much as a scratch on her neck. He's not sure how that's possible, but he's grateful all the same. If she has any scars from this mission they'll be psychological. It's not a comforting thought.

He's asked too much of her this time, he's sure of it.

His palms slip on the controls and he shakes his head. He can't let himself think like this. He should really use some of that ninja training Felicity seemed so impressed by to center his mind. He breathes in and out slowly, methodically, until it's just him, the plane, and that clear blue sky.

And Felicity.

Who is definitely just sleeping behind him. And not in a coma.

He gives up and turns to Digg. "You want to-"

Her voice crackles over the headset and cuts him off. "It might just be the sleep deprivation talking, but tell me that cloud on the left doesn't look exactly like Snoopy."

Digg grins as Oliver sits back in his seat. He scans the horizon, unable to see what she sees, but that isn't surprising. He's not exactly known for his flights of fancy. Digg's imagination is apparently better than his, though, because he not only spots it, but turns and points out some other cloud that he thinks looks like a dolphin. Felicity pops her head in between their seats to get a better look and then stays up there with them, she and Digg pointing out shapes in the sky, until he begins their descent.

He's in a much better mood when they land and as soon as they finish taxiing he's up out of his seat and moving to her side. She's prodding the cut on her forehead gently. "How's your head?"

She smiles up at him. "Still attached."

His hand comes to rest on her lower back as they make their way into the airport and he keeps it there as they weave through the crowds. They have to fly commercial from Hong Kong to Starling City and he can't keep the surprise off his face when the tickets they print out at the kiosk say first class. ARGUS wasn't usually so generous. He'd once been shoved in a crate and shipped on a mission as cargo freight.

"It must be a mistake." Diggle says, warily eyeing the long line they'll have to join in order to speak to someone about it.

Felicity's cheeks turn slightly pink. "Not exactly," she tells them. "How upset would the two of you be if it turned out I used my powers for our personal gain?" She wrings her hands together nervously as she looks back and forth between the two of them.

Both he and Diggle stare at her in stunned silence.

"What?" she asks, her voice a little sharp. "It's not like either of you would be comfortable in coach. I figure we've earned it."

Oliver looks to Diggle, who shrugs. "Can't argue with the lady."

They board the flight home and Oliver ignores the look Digg shoots him when he lowers himself into the seat next to hers.

He knows there's a lecture heading his way. Digg will have fourteen uninterrupted hours to work on it now and Oliver finds that he's almost looking forward to it. Something has to snap him out of this. Something has to remind him of why he'd kept her at bay to begin with and Digg's disapproval seems like an excellent start.

He's been making questionable decisions for days now. Felicity didn't even need to come with them to Lian Yu, but the idea of leaving her behind had made him uneasy. She'd walked him through everything with Slade, calmed him down, built him up, made him believe. She was the reason that Slade was in custody. Without her he would have failed, there's no doubt about it.

Once they reach cruising altitude she plays with the controls on her seat, transforming it into a bed with a satisfied grin. She pulls out the complimentary red satin eye mask and does a little happy dance in her seat as she pops it on. "Don't wake me for anything," she says, smiling blindly in his direction.

The strap of the mask poofs her hair up on one side and he reaches to fix it, but freezes when he feels a not entirely unfamiliar impulse.

He wants to kiss her.

He wants to wrap his hand around the back of her neck and pull her towards him before she has time to realize what he's doing. He wants to feel her fingers brace against his chest in surprise and then twist into the material of his shirt as his lips part hers for the very first time. He wants to lick his way into her mouth as he lifts her into his lap, wants to run his fingers up her sides as her hands tug at his hair, he wants to make her moan so loud and so long that a flight attendant has to run over and demand that they stop. He wants to see the swell of her lips and the flush of her cheeks as she pulls off that mask and realizes that they're not so unthinkable after all.

He wants that. He wants her. The understanding, as always, is painful.

Before he can decide whether to act or not, she lies back and rolls onto her side, still facing towards him. His hand drops to his lap.

He watches her openly as they hurtle through the sky and realizes he's in more trouble than he thought. He doesn't just want her. He can feel the words he said at the house sneaking around in his mouth and it takes every ounce of control to keep them from slipping out again.

He can't let that happen, but he can reach over the barrier between them and take her hand once his own seat reclines down. The angle is awkward, but he feels her fingers grasp his and he knows that he won't let go until she does.

He closes his eyes.

When they open again, Felicity's seat is back up and she's looking down at him softly. They're still holding hands.

It's been fourteen hours.

It's not enough time.


	3. Three

AUTHORS NOTES: I can't stop thinking about the show. Send help. Arrow belongs to DC Comics. The title is blatantly stolen from the song "I See You, You See Me" by The Magic Numbers.

* * *

_I often thought that you'd be better off left alone  
Why throw a circle round a man with broken bones?  
But darling when I see you, I see me_

_~"I See You, You See Me" by The Magic Numbers_

* * *

Digg and Lyla take them out to dinner one night in July and nervously announce that they're having a baby. Or, more accurately, that Lyla is having a baby. Digg's baby. Which, whoa, sounds really sexist. It's Lyla and Digg's baby. Inside her. Baking. For the next six months. Because Lyla is pregnant.

Felicity is happy, she is. She's thrilled. Digg is going to be an amazing father and while she doesn't know Lyla that well, Digg loving her so much must mean that she's an all around awesome person. She fired a rocket launcher from the side of a helicopter, so it stands to reason that she can probably handle having a child, but still. Felicity's mind scrambles to work out the logistics. Where on Earth are they going to put a baby?

That's probably not the best question to ask.

She smiles at the couple sitting across from her, quickly offering up her congratulations before rambling excitedly about how fun it will be to take this theoretical child to the zoo one day, but no one else is exactly beaming. Not even the parents. It's all sorts of awkward.

Oliver is dead silent beside her in the booth, which is not acceptable, so she kicks him under the table. His head pops up and he tells them their news is wonderful and then he smiles the smile that Felicity hates- the one that means he's pretending. She slides her hand onto his leg just above the knee and squeezes hard to get him to stop, to get him to focus on the joyous and momentous news being shared with them. Pinching someone who spent years being tortured is probably not the nicest or most mature way to handle it, but she presses her fingers into his flesh anyway and wow- his thigh is _solid_. Like, it's all muscle and no softness and maybe her fingers slide up a little as she feels this situation out. Oliver inhales sharply at the movement, his body jerking up straighter as his head whips around in her direction. Her hand flies back into her lap.

She can feel his eyes on her for a while after that.

Digg and Lyla beg off as soon as the check is settled, because, well, Lyla is tired. The brunette smiles at Felicity and whispers conspiratorially across the table that pregnancy side effects are an excuse she plans on using as much as possible. Felicity agrees it's a good strategy. No one can argue back without looking like a jerk.

Everyone hugs before they take off, because they're a family after all, and she notices the way Oliver's arms come around Digg and then tighten a little. She feels better. He is happy for them. It's just a lot.

Oliver slides back into the booth once they leave and she slides back in next to him and the two of them look at each other in stunned silence. "Wow," she finally says, picking up her almost empty wine glass and draining it. "Wow."

Oliver says nothing. For a while they both just sit there thinking.

Their table is next to the window and it's raining a little outside. The drops of water on the pane distort the lights beyond the glass, making the world appear softer. She's warm and the wine and the candlelight are making her feel warmer still, but her body is buzzing. Digg is having a baby. At this time next year there will be a baby. It's crazy.

"They're going to need a nanny or something, right? Because we can't exactly put a bassinette in the foundry, can we?" Felicity asks. "I mean, I guess we could, but baby proofing that place would be a nightmare."

Oliver shrugs.

"Did you have a nanny?"

"Yeah," he says, his eyebrows lifting as he nods. "A few of them."

She slides closer to Oliver and reaches across him, picking his untouched glass of wine up from the table without asking permission. He never actually drinks when they're out anyway. She takes a thoughtful sip of it and then another, ignoring the way the corners of his mouth tick up when she murmurs appreciatively. "Nannies are good," she says, not really sure that she has that opinion.

He tilts his head noncommittally, his arm stretching out behind her on the booth, and she leans back, curling the glass of wine to her chest as she tucks herself against him. After a moment his arm slips down around her shoulders.

They go quiet again and she slowly finishes the rest of his wine. "So, what are we thinking? Andrew?"

Oliver's fingers trail against the skin of her arm absentmindedly. It feels nice. "Probably, if it's a boy."

"Oh, it's a boy. They don't really seem like girl people."

"I don't think it works that way," he muses, smiling.

"Really?" she asks sarcastically. Her left hand plops down on his knee. "Please explain to me the way that cells divide. I dare you."

He surprises her by actually thinking about it for a second. "There's something called…mitosis, right?"

She huffs softly, lifting her hand from his leg. "Score one for you, Mr. Queen," she says, waving her finger in the air a little. "But don't get cocky. The day you get to lecture me on science is the day I get to lecture you on Krav Maga." Her arm drops down again, her hand falling back above his knee as if they touch like this all the time, as if it's normal, as if it's natural. She stares down at the way it sits there, a little surprised by how comfortable she feels. Had Oliver's drink been her second or third?

"You keep up your training with Digg and that day might come sooner than either of us think."

She shrugs, but is totally pleased that he's noticed the work she's been putting in. She stretches her right arm out and places the empty wine glass onto the edge of the table. "Have you seen these guns recently?" she asks, curling the arm back up so he can see the newly formed definition in her bicep. She stares at the muscle proudly and he slides his hand up to squeeze it gently.

"Very impressive." They smile at each other and if that squeeze starts to feel like a caress, Felicity doesn't mention it.

She relaxes back against him. A busboy stops at their table and clears the remaining plates before reluctantly asking if they'd like some more water. It's probably a hint that they should leave, but she doesn't really want to and Oliver makes no move to get up. The restaurant is quiet and dark and the candles are giving everything a golden glow. It's nice to just sit there with him.

"So, what would I have?" Oliver eventually asks. "Boys or girls?"

She thinks for a moment. "Maybe it's because I've seen you with Thea, but I'm pretty sure you're girl people." His body tenses next to her and she grins. "Oh please, if you think it's going to be hard for you, just think of those poor girls of yours. They'll have no social lives. Their dates will show up and run scared the minute you open the door wearing all that leather."

"That's assuming they make it to the door. I'm not sure you've considered the moat I'll be installing." He shifts in his seat, a small smile on his lips. "What about you? Boys or girls?"

She sits up a little. "Oh, um. I'm don't know."

He bends his arm up and his hand starts brushing lightly over the back of her head. "Really?" he murmurs lowly. "I was thinking you might be girl people, too."

She turns to look at him and wow, his face is close, like really close, and his fingers feel really good on the back of her head. She blinks. "I don't know. I, uh, I'm not sure I'll have kids."

Oliver moves to tuck a piece of her hair back behind her ear. His voice is soft. "You don't like them?"

"No, I do," she says, a bit breathlessly. "I just, I don't know. Kids are sticky."

Oliver smiles, his head dipping a little in her direction. For a moment she thinks he might kiss her, which is ridiculous. She and Oliver do not kiss. Not ever. Not even when someone's about to walk into the server room they're hiding in and they have no plausible excuse for being there. Right now though, his eyes can't seem to stay off her lips and his fingers are massaging the back of her neck, and okay yeah, he definitley just rolled his lips into his mouth to moisten them, so she was wrong about it being ridiculous. He's totally thinking about kissing her.

Alarm bells roar to life in her head. Things have been different between them since the island, they have. He's been more open, more affectionate and they've spent a lot of time together just hanging out because the city has been so quiet. It's hard not to get a little carried away, but she's been doing her best to not read too much into it. Sara's been gone for months and he hasn't been seeing anyone new. The poor guy is going through a dry spell and here she is molesting his knee all night like some sort of pervert.

"Who knew you'd get turned on by knee touching?" she mumbles and Oliver's eyebrows leap upwards the way they do whenever she says something inappropriate.

Wait. Did she say that out loud?

She runs the last five seconds back in her head. "Oh. OH! No! I don't- I wasn't trying to turn you on! I meant that it's been a really long time since you slept with someone-whoa! Not that I was thinking about that either! Well I was, but I was more thinking that you were desperate. Not desperate! Hard up. Oh, god. " She blinks rapidly and then scrambles away from him, scooting all the way out of the booth. She puts her hands on her hips, trying to hold onto some small shred of dignity as she turns back to face him. He hasn't moved an inch. "Oliver, I don't want to talk anymore, let's go back to my place."

Oliver freezes for a second and then he starts laughing, which is crazy because he never really laughs. It's always a light guffaw or a chuckle, but, while this laughter is kind of quiet, almost silent actually, it's definitely happening. His shoulders are even shaking. For the life of her she can't figure out what she said that was so funny.

"Seriously, you need to take me back to my place right now and, no! That's not what I- Jesus, I don't mean _back to my place_, back to my place. I'm not propositioning you. I just need you to take me to bed right now and Oh. My. God. What am I saying? I think I might be drunk. Am I a little drunk?"

Oliver slides out of the booth far more gracefully than she did and places his hand on her shoulders. He smiles at her broadly as he shakes his head. "I don't mind." He presses his lips to her forehead and then turns away, heading towards the exit.

Felicity gulps down a mouthful of air.

That forehead kiss thing was new. And it was nice.

She chases after him.


End file.
